It was unspeakably cold throughout every nerve. I could feel the power leaving the breaths from my lungs, and the life leaking out onto the floor below. It was slipping away so quickly, a rapid drain from my insides. Multiple wounds had perforated my abdomen—life was so fragile. I tried to claw my way up, to find something to say, but shock was taking over. I was hanging onto consciousness by a thread.
The governor had to know. What would become of the galaxy and humanity in my stead? There had to be something better than this: a sudden eruption of violence and outrage. I had so many regrets, not the least of which was what happened to Earth.
I begged her to reach out, and find peace with the Arxur. I could feel her touch on the back of my head, but it was distant. Fading fast. Spend the final strength to make eye contact, to see what she sees.
The Venlil’s own blood was mixing with mine; there was a glaze in her eyes, almost masking the concern with remoteness. She had been a good friend to us, and I hated that she’d been hurt for it. I wondered if Tarva, like all the rest of her kind, thought we were animals now. My fear of what came next warred with my desire to fight for a cause. I could feel my blood pressure dropping, and the shallowness of my lungs trying to draw air. Was there life after death, or just eternal nothing? How would it feel?
Death was inevitable, of course, but I always assumed that I had more time. I didn’t want my person, my self, to be gone into the wind. Everything that I was and perceived would be nothing for all eternity. The only solace I could find was the thin hope that the future would be better—that something would change.
Darkness. A prison. Eyes sealed, never opening again. Irresistible to just rest—so unspeakably tired. So weary of my burdens and this world.
It’s as if I’m leaving my body, stepping out of it. Peaceful, and frigid as ice. There is no sensation.
There was a crack of light in my visual field, illuminating the darkness of unconsciousness. It batted away the gloom, as an unspeakable calm washed over me. Memories and faces of people long gone rapid-fired past me. I saw my grandmother knitting on the porch, smiling at me with a face I thought I’d forgotten. The moment that I’d been elected to the United Nations’ highest office, full of youth and fervor. The ideas and fire for peace all rushing back in an instant; I would’ve teared up if I had any connection to my body.
My parents stood side-by-side in the effervescent glow, pride in their pupils. There was a warmth in their gaze, and I could feel that it was all going to be okay. My concerns for the world slipped away; it was a place I no longer belonged to. It was time to heed the Reaper’s call, to join the sea of faces in the Great Beyond. I would be safe and at rest here.
A final moment of acceptance, of triumphant euphoria. The grand finale, the last gasps of consciousness. Then, there’s emptiness. The lights are dimmed, as it all slips into a place where nothing exists, and nothing ever will. My will, and ability to process, snatched from my fingers. I was no more.
A cold, dark, absence of personhood was all left behind when the embers settled. Time was a concept for a living; there were no thoughts abuzz in the mind, or cognizance of the experience at all. This was the end of everything.
Memory Transcription Subject: Elias Meier, Former UN Secretary-General
Date [standardized human time]: July 6, 2160
The sensation was as if the lights had been turned back on in a cobwebbed attic, after decades of disuse. The fog was choking, when the spark poked through a dormancy that couldn’t be described. I only had words to express the ever-after once the gears were back in motion. To say that I felt startled and disoriented was an understatement. Nothing seemed right either: sensation was an uncanny mess. I willed my fingers to move, but they felt alien, rather than anything like being my own.
I died. I…it’s hard to remember. The doctors must’ve resuscitated me or something, but the peek behind the curtain felt so real. Why was I even afraid of dying? The serenity was unmatched.
It took a moment for the world to come into focus, but there was a strangeness to processing the digital input. It felt as though visuals were being beamed to my mind, while my eyes were a mere decoy—even while they tried to mimic the real thing. The touch felt more like a vibration underneath saying something was connecting with my skin. Additionally, there was so much that I couldn’t pick up: saliva in my mouth, thirst or hunger, the temperature of the room, any aspect of breathing, or the normally-unnoticed sensation of blinking. Where was the pain too? Even with drugs, I had sustained a severe injury.
Perhaps this was the afterlife, and I was in fact dead. There was no feeling of being a real, flesh-and-blood human being.
“Hi, Elias.” The feeling of the translator’s mind-warping was familiar at least, suggesting that I wasn’t in the afterlife—unless there was a shared eternal paradise. I commanded my pupils to turn toward the voice, despite how forced and unnatural it felt. Fear signals knocked at my skull, as I spotted a talking ant-spider standing inches from my face; reflex almost took over to swing at him. “My name is Virnt. How are you feeling?”
I shied away from him, trying to swallow—nothing. “I can’t swallow. What the fuck? Where am I? What have you done to me? What are you?”
“I told you not to get right up in his face, Virnt,” a human voice said, hovering beside some holographic screen. Recognizing my own species calmed me a bit, since I was well aware how brutal aliens could be to predators. “I’ve known you since you were a child, and Tilfish still give me the heebie-jeebies sometimes.”
He’s known Virnt since childhood? How fast do these Tilfish grow up?
“I’m sorry. I was just extremely excited about the project, and the implications; I wanted to know how he’d react and handle it. I can give you a moment, Elias, or let you speak to someone else,” Virnt rambled.
My eyes darted around, wariness and unease settling in. “No, it’s okay. Just please, tell me what happened—what is going on, and…where we are. I am…almost certain I died.”
“You did. However, post-mortem, the Venlil did a scan on you—thoroughly imaging your brain. This is a Terra Technologies research lab. We replicated everything that made you yourself, down to an exact science. You have a new lease on life, with true synthetic immortality! I’m sure this feels strange, but I assure you, this version of you possesses all of your attributes, memories, and neural connections—we wanted you to be the same.”
That revelation was like a gutpunch, hearing that I was some…photocopy of Elias Meier, and that the genuine human being had passed away on the streets of Venlil Prime. I threw my legs over the bed in a blinding panic, trying to figure out what the hell I was. My brain—thought processor, I supposed—refused to accept that what I was feeling wasn’t real. The Tilfish scuttled after me as I sprinted toward a bathroom, on legs that worked, yet felt like unfinished emulations. My gaze locked on the mirror, and I stared at the familiar face. The visage was impressively lifelike: an accurate image of my true self, not some metal husk or a phony thing.
Maybe I should cut the skin, and see what’s underneath it—it’s just wires. I don’t like this one bit. Nope, nope, nope.
“Please don’t harm yourself!” Virnt blurted, somehow reading my mind. That I liked even less, and I was beginning to feel like a caged animal, or better yet, an amoeba under a microscope. I wanted to make this stop; it was a nightmare I desperately wanted to end. “Breathe…er, I mean, relax. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
I tried to draw in a breath, but some emulator of my voice was all that responded. “Get out of my head!”
“I’m sorry about that. We’re trying to monitor your experiences for quality assurance, and to make corrections so this is less jarring for you. We can read any person’s mind live now; we’re just skipping the extra steps with your program.”
“What year is it? We didn’t have anything like this. And why have you done this to me?”
“It’s 2160. It’s been 24 years since you passed on, which is a long time, but…not as distant as it could have been! This technology could change everything. Our lives are so short, but they don’t have to be. Whether you want this or not, you know that many people do.”
24 years. I thought it’d be longer, but that’s something. I’m amazed that humanity is alive too; they’re tampering with dangerous realms. Fields that should’ve been left untouched.
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Beset by a mismatch of emotions, I returned back to a chair, cradling my head in my hands. The last time I remembered crying was when the first bombs struck Earth; not that those even were my memories. This was overwhelming enough that I wanted to break down, but there were no tears in my unblinking eyes. God, I’d really have a predator stare now. I wished I could seal my cursed gaze shut, and fade unaware back into the dark. Thanks to the utter lack of breathing, there were also the faint cues that I was suffocating; the more time progressed, the more strongly it felt like I was constantly holding my breath while diving underwater. In the surreality of my present form, it was all I could do not to scream and succumb to mania.
You want to read my mind, Virnt? I never asked for, or agreed to this. I think you should’ve let me rest in peace.
The Tilfish’s antennae scrunched in a display of concern. “We’re planning to make adjustments so you’ll be more comfortable: it’s a learning process, for all those who’ll come next! If you really don’t want to be involved…we can shut off your program, Elias. I only wanted to give a hero of humanity a new lease on life.”
“Is that why you chose me?” Damn self-preservation. This is horrid, yet I don’t want to die again: to return to non-existence. I tried not to focus on what was missing from the current stimuli, and to train my thoughts on what he was saying. Through the blame, in my addled faculties, I felt a flicker of sympathy. “Because you think I…deserve better?”
“I have a lot of reasons, but that’s one of them. Look, now that this technology is out there, people are going to use it. I want it to be done right—humanely. You’re the right person to speak to the galactic community, and lobby for ethical standards and civil liberties. Where digital minds can be installed, minimum standards for comfort, and citizenship privileges.”
I cast a cold stare at them. “Can you turn me off at will? Control this body remotely?”
“I assure you, we won’t do that. It’d be the same thing as the murder or coercion of any other sapient—and I hope you believe I wouldn’t do that.”
The human from earlier spoke in a raspy voice that sounded a bit wild, yet distinctly familiar. He sported a welding mask, obscuring his features. “You’re free of so many of the burdens of being human: ones that I dream of escaping. You can change your face if it disgusts you, and you can’t feel pain. Your brain, your body, won’t break…and we never have to lose anyone again. Don’t you see the chance you’ve been given?”
My facial cues seemed responsive, down to the most minuscule muscles; I slanted my eyebrows inward. “I know you. Your voice.”
“No, you don’t. It’s understandable with all this that you’re latching onto anything familiar. Chalk it up as a technical glitch and move on.”
“It’s not that, Marcel Fraser. It might have been decades to you, but it's been two weeks since I remember speaking to you and your friend.”
“You’re delusional! That person died years ago,” he hissed. His hands flew upward, before he stormed out of the room with an exasperated huff.
I turned toward Virnt, frowning. “With everything going on, I don’t appreciate the attempt to gaslight me. I know that was him. What happened?”
“A single-minded focus on bringing back that friend,” the Tilfish sighed. “It’s a long story. I apologize for his behavior. I assure you, I have no intentions of violating your autonomy, or doing anything other than helping you acclimate.”
“I feel half-human at best,” I groaned. “You’ve got to make some changes.”
“We can make improvements. Give it a few days to see what you adjust to, and what’s vital to enter in; the only features missing are things that don’t add much to the human experience. You can choose to end this at any time, but what’s the harm in giving it a shot? What do you say?”
I mulled it over, circling back to how it’d felt when my brain gave out; I was the only being that could describe what it was like on the other side. After a short duration of having returned to the physical world, being shut down was a frightening prospect. It wasn’t like I’d expected to wake back up, but this was a second chance that could also be given to many others. Why would I waste a chance to help humanity, and to see what the world had become? Others would suffer as I was now, if I wasn’t the one willing to stick it out and iron out the rough edges. This might be opening Pandora’s Box, but as Virnt pointed out, it wasn’t like it could be sealed shut again.
Someone will have to be the guinea pig, but maybe I can steer this technology toward being a force for positive change. It is remarkable how far we’ve come in such a short time.
“Well, I would like to hear what’s become of humanity, and frankly, how the hell we managed to survive. Things looked pretty bleak in my last days,” I responded aloud. “I’d also like to hear all of your reasons for reviving me. That implied there were quite a few, and I want all your cards on the table.”
“Not getting anything by you, am I?” The Tilfish’s mandibles clacked, apparently a laughing gesture. His compound eyes focused on me. “One thing at a time. There was a lot that happened, or was discovered, after your…untimely demise. For starters, we learned you humans were hardly the only omnivores.”
That got my unyielding attention, as I couldn’t believe what I heard. “What?!”
“…yeah. The Federation ‘cured’ any meat-eaters, which means they genetically installed allergies to animal flesh, and then overhauled their culture to fit their ideology. My species is one of the former omnivores, and I chose to go back to it since I moved to Earth as soon as I reached adulthood. I sort of have an obsession with humans and how you work.”
“Um, noted.” I took a moment to digest what he just said; somehow, being talked about like nothing more than machinery wasn’t the most shocking element. I’d have to get used to that, at any rate, since I was a literal machine now. “They hated omnivores. They…wanted us dead for being predators. Oh God, did they cure humanity?!”
“What? No! It was more that it proved your buddy Isif’s side of things. Their starvation attempts went far beyond you and the Arxur—you were just the failures. I mean, they did try to cure some abducted humans in the mid-twentieth century—”
“I beg your pardon?!”
“Don’t worry, the Farsul failed for centuries because they couldn’t figure out B12 deficiency. Oh, and to be clear, they targeted real herbivores too. You should see what the Venlil look like now that humanity uncrippled them. They’re quite the opposite of the skittish species you knew! Would you like to see a picture of Tarva’s unmodded daughter?”
The gears in my head were grinding to a halt, as the information overload was beating me down. “Yeah. Sure. Why the fuck not?”
Virnt handed me a holopad, revealing an image of a much older Governor Tarva; her snout fur was turning white. The human she was with made me do a double take, as I recognized a graying Ambassador Noah Williams cozied up next to her. That made me re-evaluate exactly why Tarva had requested the astronaut who made first contact as our ambassador, despite how nervous she’d been around him in the initial stages. I didn’t know if robots could get whiplash, but I was definitely feeling it. My focus shifted to two fully grown children, one human and one…Venlil? The young female had a nose on her snout, and was wearing running shoes at the end of perfectly straight legs.
“Ah, send the Governor and the Ambassador my regards,” I managed. “If it wouldn’t weird them out too much. I…I would love to get in touch.”
Virnt took his holopad back, compound eyes gleaming. “You’ll be able to contact anyone you like. Sorry for giving you ‘robot whiplash,’ Elias; just trying to fill you in. Long story, we found out that, that the Feds were hiding their true power to appear weak, and were colluding with the Arxur to keep the war going forever. Humanity fought to get an alliance, and with lots of help, took the conspiracy down. The end!”
“Right…so we won. We took down the Federation. Then what?”
“The Federation splintered into many groups. Humanity leads a group of eighty-odd species called the Sapient Coalition, trying to plant the seeds of peace and equality. However, we…we presently need help from the other parties, to stand with us. Not to alarm you, but there seems to be a malevolent entity just outside our space, and our clashes with them don’t bode well.”
A sense of dread festered within my mind, an all too familiar sensation. “Who exactly is this malevolent entity?”
“We don’t know; they shoot everything that moves, and we think they perpetrated a genocide against another predator species’ homeworld. I’ll get you briefed on specifics, but it’s bad news. So we need everyone, from the neutral Shield, the maligned-but-reformed Arxur, and the predator-hating Federation-lite to team up. That's the main reason the UN wants you back in the game.”
I pointed a finger at my chest, scoffing. “What on Earth does that have to do with me?”
“You have goodwill with just about everyone, including the Arxur, you’re used to assuaging predator fears, and you’re practiced at getting help in impossible circumstances. Elias, you were a diplomat that wanted peace, but made the hard decisions.”
“I am a cyborg replica of myself, and you think anyone would want to parlay with me, in this state?”
“It’ll be tough for the Fed loyalists to worry about your instincts, when you don’t eat and can’t feel hunger.”
“The Federation thinks hunting is hardwired into our brains, Virnt. This is all too much. I…I want to be alone. Please.”
The Tilfish patted my hand with a grasper, before moving away. “Of course. Take all the time you need; think it through. Let yourself get accustomed to everything I threw at you. I’ll be a short scuttle away.”
As soon as the insectoid departed from the room, I searched for anything to cover my eyes, ensuring that I could see only shadows. The changes since my timeframe of reference were drastic, though there were a few things I could take solace in. Humanity finding friends and a place in the galaxy, as well as vanquishing the immediate threats of bigotry, were positives. The fact that Chief Hunter Isif had let Earth return to full autonomy, and succeeded in his ideals of reforming the Arxur, meant that my deathbed wish had come true. It was peace between the Dominion and preyfolk, but it was understandable that there wasn’t acceptance or immediate forgiveness.
The dagger to my heart was hearing of a new war, the anti-predator madness starting all over again. I hadn’t been able to fully spare Earth, despite my best efforts to make us palatable to the Federation maniacs. If this was a do-over at keeping my people safe, before this war spilled onto our doorstep, I would give it my best. However, with how strained my sanity was right now, I hoped that I could hold onto my sense of self. With no wild claims to distract me, I fell into taking inventory of everything that was missing. There was no feeling from where my tongue rested against the roof of my mouth, no scents in the air, and an absolute stillness where my stomach should be rising or falling.
Like Virnt so aptly mentioned, I had no feelings of hunger or fullness at all, because the only insides I had now were metal rods and wires. My hands snatched the pillow with the last semblance of control, and I screamed—perhaps hoping to run my voice ragged, like a human would, but that was ineffectual as well. With attempts to regain any sense of normalcy or being alive rebuffed, I fell into a defeated, tormented silence.